Start the way to continue I always say. I have cancer, but cancer does not have me!

I meant it 12 years ago and even more so as I am now dealing with its annoying big Brother.

I am more than aware that there are things you do not have control over, but I am one of those people who live by the phrase that “faith moves mountains.” 

It is amazing what you can achieve if you believe it strongly enough. I might not always succeed in everything, but I will never stop trying. The Good Lord loves a trier. And there is no one more trying than I am.

I thought I would get that get that in before anyone else.

Trying is one word; I prefer determination myself, especially when it comes to my health.  

My Dad always said I was a determined character, where a better place to prove it than here. What a better time that now,

I was the onetime fat kid at school, who was always a surefire bet in finishing last in cross country and the last person to be picked for a football match.

That was when my resolve kick started.  

I was persuaded to discover the true benefits of jogging when I was coerced to go on a five-mile run where I made a rookie mistake of having eaten a big dinner which included a lot of cabbage.  

Ingesting so much fibre would naturally have a powerful effect on one’s system, especially when going on a five mile run. And with the start and the finish line having a “Gentleman’s Excuse Me” miles apart, it was a deciding factor on my running times.

I never thought I could run that fast.

But it was the starting point in my lifelong health kick, which gave me the strength and desire to come through a short dancing career, not forgetting three memorable summer seasons at Butlins.

I did go off track a few times, mainly due to various hospital visits and other times, “not feeling like it today”. But when I saw this enclosed photo, looking like Peter Kay’s stunt double, I knew I had to do something.

It took me a while, but the evidence was there that I still had that spark of determination when I lost three stone. Not long after that, I got thyroid cancer. The weight went back up again.

Determination still strong, it took years to change my eating habits and several visits to the Gym when I got under the 14 stone mark for the first time in years. I liked the slim me. I liked being able to walk into shops and try on clothes where I was not ashamed to look in the mirror in case I looked like a robot.

I was not going to let that go, not even when a thing called COVID got in the way. Even when I got the “lurgi” and moved into my bus pass stage of life, I wanted to keep that healthy look for as long as possible.

I had pulled on a set of dance shoes for the first time in 44 years; I was busier than ever on the broadcasting and writing front. And when I was taken off the Thyroid Cancer clinic books after almost a decade, I thought that whilst I was moving closer to my official pension age, was convinced that  I had brought down a curtain on that part of my life.

How wrong I was.

It may have taken a couple of months, but I know that I am now facing a much bigger cancer challenge. 

When they told me during the original diagnosis that it was Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma, I was surprised that I was able to hold it together, as it was the more difficult to shift, where the end result was not always a positive one.

I went into what was my default mode, especially in front of friends and family. But when you are in  your house staring at the four walls, your subconscious takes over. 

You start to question your own mortality and how a terrifying prospect that can be. When that happens, then it is such a horrible feeling to shift. That has happened to me once so far.  

Unfortunately, today is another one of those days. As I write this, I am feeling lousy again. I do not want to feel lousy anymore.

I just have to remember a few things: my diagnosis was Non Hodgkins, but it is stage one (subject to a new scan). To me that is doable. I still have my sense of humour (a very powerful weapon) and I am still doing my morning Tai Chi exercises, but that is another story.

And with my birthday on the Tuesday of that week I was going to be anything but miserable. That is another story. But it was a great day.

Now, the next stage is a PET scan where this cancer journey will begin for real.

When that happens, it will give me some key answers to some key questions. Are we able to accept the Doctor’s first answer:   is it stage one or higher?

I was told that if it was stage one, then I would be looking at radio therapy, if higher it will be chemo. Whatever happens, I will be ready.

There will be some more swotting up to do ahead of next week:  the last time I got the radioactive treatment I had to carry a card for three months, in case I set up any alarms. If they bump up the dosage, am I going to make the security guards at Asda work overtime.

If it is chemo, I will save a fortune on these dear shampoos. If that happens, I will have to keep reminding myself that “Bald is Beautiful”.

All will be revealed during the next scan, where I am going to get injected with stuff, which means I that I cannot get up close and personal with anyone during the 6 hours that follow.

So I will have to move my next dance practice with Mrs Frankie Boy to another date then